


Cold Wind Blows

by m3aculpa



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Transgender, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-04
Updated: 2010-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-24 00:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m3aculpa/pseuds/m3aculpa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt has a secret. Mr Schue's latest scheme threatens that. He will tell them all eventually; he just needs to be ready first. Besides, Puck will always do assignment last-minute... right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Wind Blows

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Cold Wind Blows  
>  **Fandom:** Glee **  
> Rating:** PG  
>  **Characters/Pairings:** Kurt, Santana, Artie, Brittany, Mr Schue, Burt, the rest of the Glee club in disgrace  
>  **Warnings:** Angst, hurt/comfort, language, transphobia, asshole!Puck  
>  **Word count:** 3371  
>  **Prompt:** Written for [this](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_angst_meme/3065.html?thread=3404281) prompt at the [](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_angst_meme/profile)[**glee_angst_meme**](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_angst_meme/) : _Kurt is a FTM transsexual. He has been living as a boy for almost 4 years but since he is underage he has yet to have a sex reassignment surgery. (Either that or he doesn't want the operation at all. ) Kurt is still gay, btw. Basically I want the Glee club to find out and be all "Why did you lie to us?" and Kurt desperately tries to tell them that despite having a vagina he really IS a boy. I'd also love it if some of the guys from glee/football team took of his shirt to show his breast to check if "he was really a chick" in front a lot of people. Cue, Humiliated!Hurt!Kurt who thought that his friends would understand._  
>  **Summary** : Kurt has a secret. Mr Schue's latest scheme threatens that. He will tell them all eventually; he just needs to be ready first. Besides, Puck will always do assignment last-minute... right?  
> 

Mr Schue had got into his head that they all needed to get to know each other better. Kurt had groaned when the Hat of Fate came out and even more so when Puck pulled his name out of the hat. That was probably the worst possible match.  
   
They were supposed to find out things about each other’s childhoods. The thought nearly made Kurt panic. Puck might not remember him and nobody else seemed to, but Kurt wanted to keep it that way until he was ready to tell them himself. He’d gone home and spoken to his dad, who had called Schuester up and told him that it was not a good idea. There might have been threats involved, but Schuester had promised to drop it.  
   
Kurt wasn’t worried. He knew that Puck would wait last minute to do the assignment and Mr Schue was going to tell them to not care about the assignment during practice today. So he took his time getting there, fixing his attire and winking at himself in the mirror to boost his confidence.  
   
His secrets would be safe.  
   
In a way his transformation had begun with the death of his mother. It was then that his dad pulled him out of school, concerned over the way he was coping, and started home-schooling him. He counted himself lucky for that, because the freak-out he had when he entered puberty early at the age eleven would have been impossible to hide from anybody.  
   
His body was undergoing changes that had made his chest tighten in anxiety. He hated how his hips were widening, hated the lumps growing on his chest, showered in the dark because he couldn’t _stand_ to look at his body. There was something wrong with it and he didn’t want to touch it. It didn’t feel like it belonged to him.  
   
His dad had been worried and had taken him to a psychiatrist. Dr. Rosenberg was kind and listened to him and his dad in a way that made it obvious that she _cared_. She listened and then told him that he wasn’t alone. She had explained to him what was happening and gave him information and other people’s story. He’d been amazed. He saw himself in the others, those who knew his struggle, and it was with relief he realised that things could be made right again. Of course, he was too young for sex reassignment surgery, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was what he wanted in the future.  
   
His dad had sat him down and started discussing what they were going to do. He knew that he wasn’t a girl and he couldn’t pretend to be a girl. He’d been quiet as a child and people barely noticed him. Nobody seemed to remember Kirsa Hummel. So they decided to enrol him to McKinley High when the time came as Kurt, a combination of Burt’s name and his wife’s. That was the moment when his dad (and he’d lucked out on the most awesome dad in the world) started saving money for his surgery.  
   
He’d been living as Kurt Hummel for the last four years. When he turned sixteen, he’d started his hormone treatment to hinder further feminisation. He couldn’t wait to have his sex reassignment surgery, but he would have to. Then Kurt Hummel would leave Lima behind in the dust.  
   
He sauntered into the choir room. The rest of the club was gathered around the piano, but that was not unusual. He wondered what piece of gossip that had caught their attention this time. He put his bag down by the chair and approached the group.  
   
Warning bells went off in his head when he noticed the triumphant look on Puck’s face. It was the kind of look that made him want to run in the opposite direction. It was the look he had seen before they had thrown pee balloons at him. It was a look that screamed danger. He felt himself flinch slightly, barely visibly, but he still _did_.  
   
Something in Puck’s look, made the others turn and look. The looks upon their faces when they realised that it was him, made his stomach drop. His mouth was suddenly dry and he swallowed convulsively. His heart was pounding in anxiety and he didn’t understand _why_ , but it might have something to do with the betrayed look on Mercedes’ face.  
   
“Boy, why’ve you been lyin’ to me?” she demanded in that high, loud tone of voice she got when she was really upset or angry.  
   
He took a step back. He couldn’t help himself. Something made him want to run. His eyes flickered between them, like a rabbit caught in a death trap. Matt was stony-faced and Mike had crossed his arms over his chest. He looked slightly uncomfortable. Meanwhile, Puck’s look made him sweat in nervousness.  
   
“I haven’t been lying to you, ‘cedes,” he stammered. “What are you talking about?”  
   
She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. She had a look of complete disbelief on her face; as if she was convinced that he had been lying and was lying now. Like she couldn’t believe that he was trying to lie to her again. A sudden gesture drew his eyes away from her betrayed face. Rachel had, in true drama-queen fashion, drawn up a paper to her face with a snapping sound. She started to read it aloud,  
   
“’Katherine Hummel gave birth to a healthy baby _girl_ ’,” her voice carried loud and clear over the room while pointedly empathising on the gender. “Kirsa Hummel. You. I thought it strange that I didn’t remember you before, but you were homeschooled so I attributed it to that. But now I remember Kirsa. And how she disappeared.”  
   
Quinn tilted her head to the side. Her voice was very sweet when she asked him if he had forgotten to tell them something.  
   
He was sure that the horror he felt was clear on his face. His body felt numb. His eyes couldn’t really focus on any of them. They kept flicking over them, looking for an ally anywhere. He couldn’t read Santana’s expression and Brit looked really confused. Tina had a sad expression on her face and he couldn’t see Artie. This was a nightmare. He felt like he had been thrown into an enemy camp – into the lair of Vocal Adrenaline – with no means to defend himself.  
   
“I… I… I…” Kurt stammered and looked between his teammates.  
   
Where was Mr. Schue? Where was anybody who could stop this?  
   
“You wouldn’t understand,” he settled for.  
   
He felt a sense of calm suddenly. The calm people felt just before doing something that had scared them senseless. His gaze had finally settled – on the floor. He couldn’t look at them. They had already made it clear that they were condemning him – Mercedes repeated insistence that he was a liar, had proven that.  
   
“I was born wrong,” he helplessly said. “It’s like… like this body isn’t mine. I look at it and it isn’t a part of me. It is out of order, _wrong_ , and I don’t want to touch it. I was born a girl, but that was a mistake. A freak accident. Can you understand that?”  
   
“You’re a girl,” Puck suddenly said. “A _straight_ girl.”  
   
Kurt felt himself tear up in frustration.  
   
“I am not a _girl_!” he said; voice going high and shrill. “I’m not. I’m really not. I am a boy. I am gay.”  
   
Finn suddenly spoke up. The confusion on his face would have melted Kurt’s heart at any time but now. This time it only added to his desperation.  
   
“Wait, I’m confused,” Finn said, sounding dazed. “So you’re a girl pretending to be a boy, who likes _boys_ but acts like a girl?”  
   
A couple of tears escaped his control. They slid down his cheek. He wiped away his tears angrily and decided to try to get them to understand him again. But Puck had grabbed him and was stripping of his shirt. Kurt struggled violently. For once he didn’t care about his clothes. It could be ripped for all he cared! He didn’t want them to see.  
   
The shirt came off and was thrown away. Puck was tearing at his bindings and Kurt bit him. Puck cursed at him – why wasn’t anybody intervening? The binding tore free. Those freakish things bounced free and wiggled. He felt like throwing up. It was disgusting.  
   
“Yeah, he’s a chick, alright!” Puck crooned and laughed. “Look at that rack!”  
   
Kurt flushed beet-red and crossed his arms over his chest, hiding them. He crumpled to the ground when his legs didn’t want to hold him anymore. He curled in on himself and tried not to cry. Fear clawed at him. He was aware of what a dangerous world they were living in. He had thought his friends would, if not understand, at least _attempt_ to. He hadn’t thought that they would be something he’d have to fear.  
   
He tucked his head down to protect himself. If they were going to beat him up, he would try to keep himself safe.  
   
“Bastard!” somebody suddenly cried out and he heard the creaking of wheels.  
   
Puck cried out in pain. Kurt chanced a look and realised that Artie had driven his chair into Puck. The jock had hit the floor hard. The look of abject fury on the nerd’s face made Kurt’s breath catch. It was furious and outraged – outrage on his BEHALF. The way his mouth twisted in disgust when he tore into Puck,  
   
“Of all the things you’ve done, Puckerman, this is probably the worst! I have no idea why, but for some reason I thought you were well on your way of becoming a decent human being. But congrats for winning the asshat of the year award!” He abruptly turned towards the rest of the group. “And you…!”  
   
The door opened, cutting him off and Kurt saw Mr Schue enter in the corner of his eye. He was looking down on his sheet music. But when he looked up, he froze. If he hadn’t still been flushed red from his humiliation and started to feel cold, he would have laughed. Schue’s face was priceless.  
   
“What is _going_ on here?” he cried out in shock.  
   
“Yeah,” Brittany chimed in, sounding upset. “Why are you all so mean to Kurt?”  
   
Santana had got up without him noticing (not hard, considering how chaotic things were) and cut in, commanding Schue to give her his jacket. When Santana used that tone of voice, you didn’t _not_ obey, so Schue simply handed his jacket over. She draped it over Kurt’s shoulders and helped him slide his arms in it. Her hand rested momentarily on his back and it was so warm it scorched him. He was so very _cold_.  
   
Mercedes floundered for an answer, before she managed to find her bearing again,  
   
“He lied to us, Brit,” she said gently. “He’s been lying to us all the time. He is not Kurt, he is _Kirsa_ …”  
   
Kurt flinched violently. He tugged the jacket closer around himself. He wanted to say something, but Santana mouthed at him to be quiet. She gathered up his shirt and gave it to him. It was ruined beyond repair. He bundled it up in his arms and hugged it to his chest.  
   
“You mean you didn’t know?” Brittany asked, tilting her head to the side like a curious kitten.  
   
There was a barrel of questions coming Brittany’s way, as well as Schue’s confused exclamations. Kurt felt himself detaching from the situation. Santana bumped his shoulder with hers and linked there pinkies together. She only did that to Brittany. It made his heart lighten slightly and he offered her a watery smile. She smiled at him and she had a pretty smile, too bad they never saw much of it. However, her eyes were promising pain when she looked at the rest of the club.  
   
“Kirsa left,” Brittany said in her usual monotone, “and came back as a boy. That means she is a boy now, right? Besides I like Kurt better. His hands are smooth as a baby’s and he is so nice to me. It is not nice to say that he is not a boy, because he is.”  
   
“And seriously your whining and crying that ‘boohoo, he didn’t tell us’ is giving me a headache,” Santana said. “Honestly, with the way you are acting now, what possible reason could he have to tell you?”  
   
The club was not given an opportunity to answer, because Santana tugged Kurt away. He glanced back at them. They were staring after them, looking flabbergasted, and he remembered that none of them had tried to stop Puck from stripping him, who was still lying on the floor. The hurt and _humiliation_ hit him again and he looked away, refusing to watch them any longer. He had trusted them. He had never imagined that Mercedes would react this badly. Maybe because he thought that she loved him just as much as he loved her. They were best friends. She had taken his sexuality in a stride, why not this? Why was the fact that nature had made a mistake so much different?  
   
“Come on,” Santana urged and he suddenly noticed that Artie and Brittany had come with them, “let’s call your dad. Can he pick us all up?”  
   
“I have my car,” he said and still felt strangely detached.  
   
“You’re not driving,” Santana dismissed. “Brittany can drive,” she noticed both Artie’s and Kurt’s startled looks, “she’s actually a good driver, just so you know.”  
   
It was too exhausting to disagree with her so they all found themselves in his Navigator. And true to Santana’s words, Brittany was an excellent driver. It was probably the smoothest right of his life. When they all trickled into his house, he realised that his father would not be home for a while. Voicing this thought, somehow led to all of them sharing his bed. He had no idea how it happened, but he blamed Brittany.  
   
He was lying on Artie’s shoulder, as Artie was one of the few guys in the club not touchy about him touching him. Santana was holding him in place by lying on _his_ shoulder and had entwined their hands. Brittany was resting her head on Santana’s legs and curled up by his feet. He was ready to admit that he felt greatly comforted by their presence.  
   
“Thank you,” he murmured quietly, crying silently.  
   
Artie rested an arm across his stomach and linked hands with Santana’s free hand.  
   
“You’re our friend, Kurt,” he quietly said. “And honestly, what were they on about? You _are_ a boy. A flamboyantly gay boy, but a boy nonetheless. Maybe they are too dumb to realise, but gender and sexuality is not the same thing.”  
   
“My cousin is a female-to-male transsexual,” Santana offered. “His transformation made us all very uncomfortable, but we wanted him to be happy. And he wasn’t happy before. We just never realised how miserable and awkward he felt. Even my bisabuela, who is really old, accepted him.”  
   
Kurt was looking at her with hungry eyes. He needed to hear some happy stories instead of bad ones. He needed to know about acceptance. Santana noticed, even though she pretended not to.  
   
“He married a girl a couple of years back,” she continued. “She knows. They have adopted a boy. It is all very ‘house with white picket fence and a dog’. They are very happy.”  
   
He smiled and imagined that future for himself. Replacing wife with husband, of course, and he wasn’t entirely sure that adoption was in his future. And there would be no house with a white picket fence, but a stylish apartment in New York City. He closed his eyes and could picture it very clearly. His partner lacked a face, but he loved him deeply and dearly. They would get married somewhere where it was legal and even if it wasn’t recognised where they lived, it would be a symbolic act. Marriage was in the heart and not in the paperwork, after all.  
   
He squeezed her hand gently. She squeezed back. Her hair tickled his chin. She was surprising him at every turn today.  
   
His smile dropped momentarily. She was not the only one who had been surprising him today. He had known that Puck was an asshole – hell, he had enough bruises from Puck’s manhandling in the past to write a book about it – but he thought that he had changed. He had been so sweet to Quinn and been much nicer to the rest of them. It shocked him that he had been so cruel. And could still hear that crooning about his breasts and it made him shudder.  
   
They were bound once again. Out of sight, out of mind. He really couldn’t wait to have the surgery. He knew that his dad would have the money ready the moment he turned eighteen and his psychiatrist would help him with necessary paperwork as well.  
   
His dad came home and found them all lying on the bed. They had shifted positions slightly to prevent cramping. He did try to get up, but Santana wouldn’t let him. His dad only raised an eyebrow and dryly stated,  
   
“Do I need to be worried, Kurt?”  
   
A smile flitted over Kurt’s face. “No, dad, we just had a rough day, but everything’s fine now.”  
   
Of course Santana wouldn’t let him get away with trying to downplay it. Brittany was also quick to back-up about how mean the others had been. Burt looked enraged and it took everything Kurt had as well as Artie’s rational voice to calm him down and stop him from calling all their parents and give them a piece of his mind.  
   
Burt was calmer, but not happy.  
   
“Where was that teacher?” he asked. “Shouldn’t he have been there to stop it?”  
   
“Dad, Mr Schue can’t be there every second of the day,” Kurt quietly defended his teacher. “I don’t blame him. I don’t blame either one of them, because it is not their fault that they are ignorant, but I’m… disappointed. I thought that they were my friends. But they wouldn’t hear me out.”  
   
He didn’t know he was crying until his dad was across the room. He was wrapped up in a hug so tight he hardly could breathe. But he was crying too hard to care. He held back as tightly. The others left (how they managed that without dad and son noticing them was a wonder, but he believed that Santana had magical powers). He was grateful that they were alone when he had to try to talk his dad out of transferring him to Carmel.  
   
He didn’t know if he had succeeded, but Schue showing up at the door definitely did convince his dad.  
   
“Santana called me and told me what was going on,” the teacher said, standing on the porch because Burt wouldn’t let him inside the house.  
   
He remembered hearing Santana’s voice when he was binding his breasts again. He had thought that she was talking to Brittany and Artie, but now he realised that she’d called Mr Schue. He was really glad that she was looking out for him.  
   
“I told them how very disappointed I was. They really should have listened to you, Kurt. In my opinion their reaction showed that they were not ready to know and have no reason to be hassling you about not telling.”  
   
Kurt listened carefully.  
   
“I told them that if this somehow wound up Jacob’s blog,” Schue said calmly, “I would disband Glee club, even if it broke my heart. We are a team, a family, and we have to be supportive of each other. I also told them that they would be talking to Miss Pillsbury for a while, to understand better what you are going through.”  
   
Kurt couldn’t help himself. He threw his arms around a startled Mr Schue, who was quick to hug him back.  
   
While some of the people had let him down, others had unexpectedly come through for him.  
   
At the moment, he could work with that.


End file.
